Pursuant to the Berne Convention, this work is copyrighted with all rights reserved by its author unless explicitly indicated. Reproduction for profit is forbidden. Any distribution must include this note and the author's email address. Don't be caught attempting to make a buck off me!

Warnings and disclaimers:

This is adult entertainment! Be warned! If you're not into graphic depictions of sex, this is the wrong story for you! If you're too young to be legally reading this, move along!

This is a work of fiction. It is not intended to reflect any particular person or persons, and the incidents portrayed exist in their current form solely in the writer's imagination. You get the idea.

Content: M+F M+M Public Oral Anal Con NC/Reluc

While I write about these issues freely, I don't necessarily advocate or condone any of it. Similarly, while I throw a sop to protection, the attention paid is realistically sloppy. I certainly DON'T recommend that YOU take your life in your hands!

Having said all that, I wrote this to educate, as well as entertain. If you've ever frequented such places as the one I describe here, you know that periodically couples come there -- and many of them are variations on scared to death -- for absolutely no reason! Or they show up and pretend to expect to be ignored, which is equally stupid. If you take your woman to an adult theater, the pair of you should expect to be watched, as an absolute minimum -- only a fool would delude him/herself otherwise. If this story makes one woman comfortable enough to let her hair down and enjoy herself in an adult theater, it's done it's job. Similarly, if it eases the mind of one male who is contemplating bringing his woman into that environment for a little excitement, I'll be happy. Enjoy!

It was Friday night, and I had no options, so out of boredom, I went off to visit the local adult entertainment complex. Disdaining books and movies on the shelf, I immediately approached the counter for a theater ticket. The transaction was soon completed, and I joined the ebb and flow entering the theater.

Inside, the usual group was occupying the back row and the open space behind it, this area offering the most privacy, and somewhat screened from the entry. There were a couple of guys visibly jerking off standing behind the seats, and one denizen seated at the end of the row was delivering a blowjob by the simple expedient of turning his head toward the fellow standing to his left.

I decided that I would settle for this action later, if I had to, and examined my environs with eyes slowly adjusting to the low light from the screen, where a young blonde was being anally penetrated, cowgirl style, by a fellow seated in a chair. After a bit of examination, I discovered two heads close together in the seats. Pulse quickening, I ambled closer to examine the situation.

Jackpot! A couple! They were seated in the traditional position, at the left end of the row, the male on the aisle. I made my move, inserting myself in a seat in the same row, leaving one open seat between us.

The woman examined me fearfully, and the male withdrew his hand from her blouse. I took the opportunity to obtain an impression of them. The woman was in her mid to late thirties, a bit heavy (quite a bit, maybe) and sweet- faced. The male appeared older, maybe late forties, and not tremendously robust. The woman fetched me another fearful look, which I returned enigmatically. "I'm relatively innocuous," I whispered hoarsely, just loud enough to be heard over the moans of the movie soundtrack, "Go on with what you're doing."

"B-but... Are you gonna watch?" she blurted.

I decided to take the bull by the horns, "Sweetheart, if you wanted your show to be private, you'd have rented a video and taken it home. You came here because you wanted the theater experience -- a big part of which is other people! Right?"

The woman exchanged glances with her escort, and after a short pause, nodded.

"Okay, then," I continued. "Have you two ever done this before?" A head shake -- no. "Would you like a quick class in the rules of the road?" I smiled engagingly.

The pair exchanged glances again, and the male grunted. The woman looked back at me and nodded assent, still very fearful. I decided to press my luck. "I can talk from here, but it would cause less commotion if I sat there," I said, pointing to the seat between us. "I'll keep my hands to myself, and move back after."

This triggered a whispered conference, and I became worried that I'd gone too far -- but they came to agreement, and the male grunted, "Okay." I got the impression that the woman had argued the 'for' position, which augured well for the evening.

I shifted closer, and picked up a subtle hint of perfume, and another familiar smell -- feminine arousal. Cool! "Okay, first thing: Honey, you can relax. Some of the people here are only interested in boys, and could care less -- but those who like women are proud of you and want you to have a good time! You're very brave to come here and we all applaud that! To us, you represent proof that there really ARE girls out there who like sex, and we're happy to have you here!"

I looked into wide eyes. The woman drew a shaky breath, "Really?"

"Sure! Moreover, you're perfectly safe, here -- no one will do anything with you that you don't allow. If someone tries and you raise a ruckus, twenty guys will hop out of their seats and pound on the offender -- guaranteed. Chivalry isn't dead -- particularly in places like this. Take me, for example," I tried to look innocuous, something usually not to difficult. "How could I expect to present myself to you as a viable sexual partner if I let some moron mess with you? You'd be out of here, and any opportunity would be lost! So it's an exercise in self-interest; anybody who wants to interact with you in any way -- even just watch -- will take action to protect you if you're in distress!"

From the rapt expressions, I could see I had their attention, so I went on. Turning my attention to the male, I declared, "Control of the situation is YOUR department!"

"Huh?" he grunted.

"Okay, we're a bit ahead of things, because I'm sitting here -- I'll come back to that -- but the bottom line is that YOU control the situation," I explained. "Other men will look to you for guidance in what is allowed and what is not. I'm sitting here, too, and I'm considered an invited guest -- but I have no say. Only YOU do! If you wave someone off, he'll back off. If he doesn't, and you make an issue of it, others -- especially others involved -- will support you."

He nodded, and the woman looked more comfortable. "Now," I continued, "Let's talk about etiquette. Even if you sit here looking uptight, you're going to attract a certain amount of attention. Guys will take up seats all around you, trying to get a look at what's going on."

"Why?" the woman asked.

"Because observing the real thing, however poorly, is better than watching a movie," I replied. "Add to that the distinct possibility that you might allow some level of participation, and the issue becomes pretty clear. Most of us -- me included -- hunger just to touch a woman. Anything - rubbing her neck, or thigh -- just holding her hand while she orgasms is better than nothing at all. An opportunity to help in any way is gravy."

"Wow! Don't they care that I'm..." she waved at herself.

"I've seen all shapes and sizes, ages -- young guys might stay away from a really old woman, but there are old guys in here, too -- LOTS of them! This is a haven of the really desperate male -- looks don't matter squat if you're female." I replied, continuing, "I'm being brutally honest, here." An older guy slid into a seat diagonally in front of the woman, directly in front of me. "See? We really need to get on to etiquette -- we're farther along than you realize."

"Okay, go ahead," the man rasped.

I too a breath, and continued, "Okay, as I said, you're going to attract some attention. Initially, everybody is going to be circumspect, especially if there is no visible activity, and you're just sitting there like a lump, clutching your purse!" I grinned to take the sting out of it. "Virtually no one will occupy this seat directly, although it's what they're ALL angling for."

"No?" the woman asked, eyebrows raised.

"No," I confirmed. "It's considered bad manners. I actually approached you in the most direct manner that you should have to tolerate. One seat away, or two, for more timid souls, is the usual start point. I started at one, because two is out of all reach, and having to move in one seat telegraphs your intentions quite a bit. THIS" I indicated my seat beside her "is the seat of the invited guest. Inviting someone to sit here indicates you're approachable. I mentioned this before -- it's why you're now getting more attention. I'm sitting here; therefore I was invited. That means you're not pretending to be uninterested in company, which makes you more of a draw."

I turned to the man. "If someone plops down here directly, without you reaching some kind of understanding first, move! He'll get the hint. If he follows, make an issue of it, and someone will help you eject him. And whoever it is will be pissed, because he'll assume the moron ruined things for everybody! Dig?"